Richard Bolitho – Midshipman

He said harshly, 'Here, put on your coat.' He even helped Bolitho into it and tugged the collar with its white patches into position. He pointed to the Pegaso, which was starting to head away, the inrush of water playing havoc with the rudder's puny efforts. 'I want him to see you, and I pray to God he'll suffer for what he did.' When Bolitho looked at him, he added, 'I want him to know he was beaten by a midshipman! A boyl'

Bolitho turned away, his ears filled with the sounds of a ship destroying itself, as under full sail she continued to slew round across the glittering crests. He heard guns coming loose from tackles and smashing into the opposite side, and spars falling, trapping the stampeding men under masses of black rigging and canvas. He heard himself say, 'Shorten sail, Martyn. Call all hands.' He felt men touching his shoulders, others ran towards him grinning and waving. Not a few were weeping. 'Deck there! ' Everyone had forgotten the'lonely man at the masthead. 'Sail on th' starboard bow, sir! ' The merest pause and then, 'Tis th' Gorgon\' Bolitho waved his hand to the masthead and turned to watch the pirate frigate heeling over, the sea around her filled with flotsam and thrashing, bobbing heads. Out of the sun's path, across the heaving swell, he also saw a sudden flicker of movement, the knifeedged fins of sharks closing in around the sinking ship. It was over a mile to the nearest beach. It was t doubtful if anyone would reach it. He raised a telescope to look for the Gorgon, his eyes misty as he saw her fat black and buff hull, her towering pyramid of canvas rounding the next headland. In another second he thought he would break, be unable to hide his emotion from those about him. A great voice bellowed, 'What the hell is going on?' Lieutenant Tregorren was standing half through the companion hatch, and with his blotchy grey face, his hair matted with wine and worse, he looked for all the world like a corpse emerging from a tomb. Bolitho felt the relief flooding through him like madness. He wanted to laugh and cry all at once, and Tregorren's wild appearance, the realization that he had been completely helpless throughout the fight, broke down all reserves. He replied in a shaking voice, 'I am sorry we disturbed you, sir.1 Tregorren faced him and tried to focus a pair of angry red eyes. 'Disturb?' 'Aye, sir. But we have been fighting a battle.' Starkie said calmly, 'Fetch Mr Eden. I fear the lieutenant is going to be ill again! '

9. Without Honour

CAPTAIN BEVES CONWAY stood by an open stern window and held one hand to his eyes to protect them from the fierce, reflected glare. Through the windows of his cabin the recaptured brig rolled untidily in the swell, her tan sails barely moving as she idled above her own reflection. Within a few hours of Sandpiper's hazardous dash through the reef and the complete destruction of the frigate, the wind had dropped to a mere breath, leaving the heavy Gorgon and her small consort almost becalmed. Like a pale yellow smear along the horizon, twisting and wavering in heat-haze, the shore was still visible, but could have been anywhere.